The Existential Crises of Dating
by windscryer
Summary: Shawn and Juliet have a formula that works for them. He flirts, she flirts, he asks her out, she says no, they solve crime. All is right with the world. And then Juliet adds a new variable and suddenly one plus one no longer equals two. Shules.
1. Chapter 1

Betaed by Lucycat. Who threatened violence if I changed it, so, you know, I guess she approves.

Disclaimer: This is a slight deviation from canon so probably not mine. Unless my therapist is right and I suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder. We took a vote, though, and think she's crazy. *nodnod*

* * *

"So, Juliet..." Shawn started, planting his butt on the corner of her desk like it belonged there and letting his sentence trail off deliberately. He was, after all, quite adept at playing the 'flirtation' game and though he rarely showed any patience in the rest of his life, here he was master of waiting for the perfect moment.

She didn't look up as she thumbed through the file in front of her, but he just waited, slight smile on his lips as he took the opportunity to study her.

She'd crack first. She always did.

Her fingers continued to skim the pages, flipping back and forth, but her breathing had become forced in its slow pace and her eyes weren't quite tracking as smoothly over the words. He couldn't see her pulse point with her head down and her chin concealing it, but he was pretty sure it was fluttering like a butterfly on speed. Next... ah yes.

There it was. The faint hint of red creeping up her cheeks.

He kept his outward expression the same, but inwardly his grin had widened and he chuckled in a way some might deem 'evilly'. He marked a point on the scoreboard in his head.

He was so going to win this round.

She looked up, finally acknowledging him.

"Oh I'm sorry, Shawn. Was there something you needed?"

_Oh well played, Juliet,_ he thought appreciatively.

Her skin _was_ flushed and her breathing was still being consciously controlled, and yes, her pulse was indeed flickering madly under her skin, but she was doing a fine job of otherwise appearing cool and unaffected.

Point to her.

But the match was _so_ going to be his.

"I was wondering what you were doing this Saturday afternoon and evening."

She looked back down, the blush deepening, and his lips twitched before he got them under control again. She shuffled through papers, but she wasn't paying them any attention at all.

"Ah, some of my girlfriends and I were thinking of going clubbing."

Another inward, evil chuckle. Almost, but no. No she whiffed that one hard. Potential plans mean nothing.

"Well _I_ was wondering if maybe you wanted to accompany me to the Foresters' game this weekend. I mean, I know it's not your beloved Marlins, but baseball is baseball and—"

She looked up, meeting his gaze dead on, all signs of nervousness gone. "I'd love to."

He blinked.

And blinked again.

Aaaaaand once more for good measure.

"You'd what?" he said, coughing immediately afterward as his voice had risen in pitch by a few bars.

"I'd love to," she said with a smile, tapping the stack of papers on her desk to align them, then standing. "Do you want to meet at the park or go out for lunch first?"

His jaw hung open for a moment before he recovered.

"Um, lunch... Lunch sounds great."

"Great!" she said, flashing him a brilliant grin. "Pick me up at eleven!"

And she walked away, headed for the chief's office where Lassiter was waiting for her. Shawn watched her go, still not quite able to believe what had just happened.

Not only had he lost, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn't even been playing the actual game.

o.o

When Gus walked into the Psych office after lunch, having cleared his schedule—because it had been three days since their last case and he just _knew_ that trend wasn't going to last—he found Shawn sitting in one of the armchairs upside down, squeezing the squishy frog like he was in a race with some unknown opponent to see who could demolish it first.

He paused to take in this scene for a moment, then decided that he didn't really want to know—and Shawn would tell him eventually anyway—so there was no need to ask.

Moving to his desk he set his samples case down and settled in to check his e-mail until the inevitable conversation ensued.

Though it must be a doozy of a case if Shawn was trying to force the blood into his head to help him think.

"Gus, I need you to kidnap me."

Gus looked up at the wall across from him—though he wasn't actually looking at the _wall—_and, after a moment, gave up trying to figure it out on his own and looked at Shawn.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I need an alibi."

Gus' eyebrows rose.

"An alibi? What did you do to Lassiter now?"

Shawn flipped around and sat up—then immediately put his head down between his knees to stave off the lightheadedness. The hand working the squeezy frog didn't slow or falter in the slightest through this positional adjustment.

"I didn't piss off Lassiter," he mumbled to his ankles.

"Oh. Okay," Gus said. He deleted an e-mail, then said, "Chief?"

"No."

"Your dad?"

"No."

Gus frowned. "Juliet?"

Shawn didn't answer and Gus half-smiled and nodded.

"What did you do, Shawn?"

Three more junk e-mails bit the electronic dust before Shawn said quietly, "I asked her out."

Gus' head pulled back in surprise and he looked at Shawn again. Who was still in the 'about to pass out' position.

"You asked her out? But you do that all the time."

"Yeah, well, she doesn't usually say 'yes'," Shawn informed his knees.

Gus' eyes widened. "She said 'yes'?"

"She said yes."

Gus' mouth opened. Then closed.

Then opened again.

Then closed again.

"She said 'yes'," was all he managed to get out on the third try.

"She said 'yes'," Shawn confirmed.

Then Gus frowned at the top of Shawn's head. "Wait, this pissed her off?"

"No."

"Okay..." Gus was going to give himself a migraine trying to figure this out. Shawn was the detective, not him. "Well then, why aren't you doing the victory dance to end all victory dances? You look more like you're going to be sick."

Now Shawn sat up. And though Gus had been trying to be facetious, Shawn really did look like he might be sick. "She said _'yes'_, Gus."

Gus nodded slowly. "Right, I got that." His eyes widened and he shrugged as if to say, 'And this is a bad thing _how_?'

"This breaks the pattern!"

Shawn stood, wobbled slightly—which made Gus shift to prepare to stand if need be—and then started pacing, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed.

"Three years we've been doing this, playing this game, flirting, having fun, and then she goes and does this!"

Gus' brows drew down. "Wait, you're mad?"

Shawn stopped, looked at Gus, and said indignantly, "No, I'm not mad! Dude, Jules said '_yes'_. She agreed to go out with me! On a _date_!"

Oh yeah. There was _so_ a migraine in Gus' very near future.

"So you're happy?" he cautiously guessed.

Shawn came over, braced his arms on the desk and leaned down, the frog giving a desperate, wheezing squeak as it was crushed against the desktop.

"Dude," Shawn said, emphasizing things as though _Gus_ was the one being exceptionally stupid. "_Juliet_ agreed to go out on a _date_ with me. Happy is not the word for how I feel right now."

Oh well, yeah, _that_ clarified things.

Gus thought for a moment, then gave up. "So what is the word, Shawn?"

Shawn's face did a rapid shift between several expressions before deciding on confused. At least now they were on the same page. "I..."

"And why do you need an alibi?" Gus dared to ask.

Shawn stood and resumed pacing, though it wasn't the frenetic speed of before. The squishy frog mutilation had also slowed down, though it might have increased in intensity. Gus wasn't sure the poor thing was going to survive the conversation at this rate.

"Because..."

Gus was tempted to resume checking his e-mail when it looked like that sentence was never going to be finished, but ignored the impulse. He might protest at times, but Shawn was his friend and Gus would always be there when Shawn really needed him.

Like now.

"Because now we have to go on a date," Shawn said. His tone said 'kicked puppy dog' and his expression said 'shy virgin that was just asked out by the quarterback'.

Gus blinked.

"Okay," he said and stood, circling the desk and sitting on the front edge. "Let me get this straight: You asked Juliet out."

Shawn nodded.

"And Juliet said 'yes'."

Another nod.

"And now you're supposed to go on a date."

A pained expression and a reluctant nod.

Gus pondered this for a moment. "_How_ is this a bad thing?"

"Because I... Because it..." Frustration flashed across Shawn's face. "It changes things, Gus!"

"Because Juliet finally acknowledged your interest in her and reciprocated?"

"Yes!"

"Shawn, if you don't want to go out with her, then why have you been asking?"

"Because... It would be weird if I didn't!"

And confusion was back. Not that it had ever really left, so maybe back _in force_ would be more appropriate.

"Why would it be weird if you didn't?"

"Because I flirt with her," Shawn said in a 'duh' tone.

"Okay."

Gus had a thought and his eyes widened with the shock of it. "Shawn, are you gay?"

"WHAT? NO!"

"Because if you are, that's fine, I mean—"

"No Gus! I am not _gay_." Shawn glared at him. "Geeze, Gus. You don't think in like thirty or so years of friendship you'd have _noticed_ something like that? I mean, I know you're not as good as me, but the fact that I go out with a new girl like every _week_—if not every other _day—_wasn't enough of an indication?"

Gus put up his hands, "They call it 'coming out of the closet' for a reason, Shawn. And you were gone for a few years. Something might have happened to... change... your opinion."

Shawn rolled his eyes and started tossing the frog back and forth as he dropped into the chair behind his desk. "You know I don't like closets and nothing changed my opinion on anything while I was gone. Not about this anyway."

"Okay... Well then, if you're not gay... why would it be weird for you to not ask Juliet out if you flirted with her?"

"Because flirting is done for a reason, Gus. You flirt with girls you think are cute because you're hoping to take the next logical step and go out with them."

Gus took his turn to glare at Shawn. "I know why people flirt, _Shawn_. What I don't know is why you think it's a big deal that you asked Juliet out. If you didn't mean it—"

"But I did."

"Okay. And she said yes." Gus smiled, spreading his hands wide. "Sounds like there's no problem to me." He stood and circled his desk to resume his seat.

"But there is, Gus!"

Gus sat and let his head drop forward, a sigh escaping him. "What is it then, Shawn?"

"I... Um..."

"You... Um..."

Shawn glared and Gus shot him back a Look.

"Answer the question or I'm checking my e-mail."

Shawn sighed in aggravation. "You know what? Never mind."

"Okay." Gus clicked on the next message. When Shawn was ready to talk he'd be here.

Shawn gave the squishy frog a few more seconds' worth of abuse, then tossed it on his desk and stood up.

"I'm going for a ride. If something should happen that requires a Psychic Detective... take a message."

Gus watched him leave, brows drawing down in concern, then sat back as the front door was slammed shut.

Not even thirty or so years of friendship could begin to explain what had just happened.

* * *

Part two is coming soon! I'd love to know what you guys liked and didn't like in the meantime. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Part two! THANKS FOR THE LOVE, GUYS!

* * *

"Okay I'm going."

The announcement, made into the quiet of the office, took a moment to register with Gus' attention.

"Hmm? Going where?" he asked, looking up after a moment.

"On the date."

Gus had to think for a second, rewind back three days of apparent normality to the odd conversation from Tuesday afternoon.

Shawn had come back from the drive acting as though nothing unusual was going on and Gus had brushed it aside as yet another weird moment in his life as Shawn's best friend. They were pretty rare, actually, considering what friendship with Shawn meant, but Gus had been around long enough to be able to tell the difference between 'Shawn odd' and 'truly odd'.

Tuesday had been truly odd, but the three days since had been 'Shawn odd'. They'd even worked a case with Lassiter and Juliet—though now that Gus thought about it, the interaction between Juliet and Shawn had been minimal-to-nonexistent.

Gus had assumed that Shawn's mini-breakdown and the ride afterward had taken care of any problems that may or may not have existed.

Gus still wasn't entirely sure on that point.

But it had disappeared and Gus had let it go. Although it appeared Shawn hadn't actually resolved anything as much as buried it deeply and forgotten about it. Until now of course.

"Okay," Gus said. "I hope you have fun."

He started to go back to his report on a new sinus decongestant when Shawn spoke again.

"Am I doing the right thing?"

Gus stared at the report, then set it aside with a smothered sigh.

"Going out with Juliet?"

"Yeah."

Gus shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Shawn's face screwed up in indecision. "I don't know. I just..." He waved a hand. "Nah. I am. It'll be good. Fun. Good, clean, fun. I mean, we're going to lunch and a baseball game, right?" There was a laugh that might almost pass as genuine—if you didn't have the rare expertise of hearing Shawn laugh when he was desperately trying to cover up feelings of distress. "Does it get any more 'good, clean fun' than lunch and a baseball game?"

Gus smiled. "No, it doesn't." There was silence and he started to reach for the report when Shawn spoke again.

He valiantly suppressed an eye roll.

"I mean, it's not like we're going to a strip club. Or— or— or a weekend in Vegas or anything. It's just a baseball game. Lunch and a baseball game. That's almost... platonic it's so good and clean."

"Okay," Gus agreed. Shawn wasn't really talking to him anyway.

"I mean, friends do this all the time and it doesn't mean anything. So it's not even really a date. It could just be two friends going to a game. Like you and me," Shawn said, looking at Gus finally.

Gus frowned. "Uh, no, Shawn. Not like you and me. You and Juliet going to lunch and a baseball game is not like you and me going to lunch and a baseball game."

"Why not?" There was a hint of panic to Shawn's tone as he sat forward and Gus arched an eyebrow.

"Because Juliet is a girl and you are interested in her for reasons that do not apply to me." He waited a beat. "I hope."

Shawn scowled. "You know, Gus, that's the second time this week you've insinuated I'm gay. Is there something you'd like to tell _me?"_

Now Gus rolled his eyes. "No, Shawn. I'm not the one freaking out about going on a date though!"

"It's not— I mean— I... Does it have to be a date?" he asked wistfully.

"Okay, Shawn, out with it."

"What?"

"Why _are_ you so freaked out about this?"

"I just... I don't want this to change things!"

"With Juliet?"

"Yeah."

Gus snorted. "Too late." He went back to his report.

"But—"

"Shawn," Gus said, not lowering his report, but glancing up. "If you're worried about the date going bad and it ruining your friendship with Juliet you can relax. I know you and I know Juliet and you two are going to have fun."

"But what if I—"

"You won't." Gus didn't glance up this time.

Shawn shot him a Look. "You didn't even let me finish."

"Don't have to."

"But—"

"_Shawn,"_ Gus pinned him with his direct stare. "_Relax._ You're going to go and you're going to have fun and everything is going to be fine. Okay?"

"Really?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Shawn took a second to think. Gus' eyebrow arched.

"Not about anything important," he finally conceded.

Gus nodded. "Exactly. And this is something important. So just trust me and _relax_."

Shawn sighed and leaned back.

"Yeah, okay. Jerk chicken?"

Gus smiled. "Give me five minutes to finish this?"

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Shawn practiced catching pop flies with the squishy frog and whistled 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game'.

Gus swallowed his chuckle and went back to his report.

o.o

"So how did it go?" Gus asked Monday afternoon.

Shawn had been playing some game on his computer, but at Gus' question he jumped. "How did what go?"

Gus rolled his eyes. "The date? With Juliet?"

Shawn stood and started pacing. "Gus, you know my dates only end one of two places."

"Right, at the venue or in bed." Whether or not he agreed with the practice it was Shawn's and Gus could still like the guy even if he didn't completely agree with his dating code of conduct.

Shawn glanced at Gus, then looked away, still chewing at his thumbnail as he continued wearing a path in the flooring.

Gus' eyes widened as he realized what Shawn was _not_ saying. "Wait... You're telling me... No. I refuse to believe it." Gus shook his head. No way he'd ever accept—

Shawn let his hand drop and laughed, but it wasn't with amusement. "Believe it, buddy."

"You ended a date with _Juliet_ at the _venue_?" Wasn't that a sign of the Apocalypse?

"I took a cab home," Shawn confirmed, pausing to run his hands through his hair, then staying with them on his head for a few moments. _"I took a_ _cab home!"_

"But... I mean..." Gus stopped to try and let his brain untangle itself as Shawn started pacing again.

It managed to get at least partially untwisted and he relaxed slightly. He thought he might be seeing the problem now. It was still bad, but not as bad as the other scenario.

"Who ended the date, Shawn?" he asked gently.

Shawn resumed worrying at his thumbnail and shot Gus another quick glance.

Gus felt a new sense of panic infuse his body at that. Maybe he had been right the first time and the world was about to end.

"Who ended the date, Shawn?" he repeated. "Shawn?" he said when he got no answer. "Who—"

"I did, all right?" Shawn spit back at him.

Gus sat back in his chair—or went limp and fell that way. One or the other.

"You... _You_ ended the date?" he asked in disbelief.

Shawn nodded, but said nothing.

"_You_ ended the date _at the venue_?"

Shawn nodded, but still remained silent.

"But... Who... What... How..."

"I know, Gus. I _know_."

"What does this mean?" Gus asked in complete bewilderment. He'd given up on trying to figure it out himself. His brain was already beginning to protest the knot it had been tied into with a headache that would probably become a migraine before the day was over at this rate.

"I don't know," Shawn said, sounding just as lost as he plopped down into one of the squishy 'guest/TV watching' chairs. "I mean, it's _Juliet._"

"Yeah. You've been trying to get a date with her for _three years_ now."

"_I know!"_

"And I'm assuming you weren't doing it so you could end it at the venue."

"No!" Shawn frowned. "Well, I mean—"

Gus sat forward. "Wait, what? Shawn?"

Shawn looked away.

Gus' jaw lowered in anticipation of saying something, but nothing came out.

"I thought... I mean, I wanted... But it's _Juliet_ and she..." Shawn huffed out a sigh and bent forward, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know anymore what I want, Gus," he said quietly.

And that was the most alarming thing Gus had ever heard in his thirty-one years of life.

* * *

Next bit coming in a few days! I'd love to know what you guys liked and didn't like in the meantime. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

And here it is, the third and final part of this little tale! YOU GUYS ARE SO AWESOME. GUH. *GROUP GLOMP*

* * *

"She wants another one."

"Another what?" Gus asked. He'd sort of zoned out after that last terrifying revelation, mentally cataloging his life and wondering if there was anything he wanted to accomplish before he died that might be possible in the next few days before the world ended.

He looked at Shawn who had slumped back in the chair, one hand over his eyes.

"Another date."

Gus blinked. "She wants another date?"

"Yeah."

Gus sat up, leaning forward. "And what did you say?"

"I didn't say anything. She left a voicemail on my phone."

Gus considered this before asking cautiously, "And?"

Shawn shrugged, but didn't otherwise move. "I don't know."

"Well what do _you_ want, Shawn?"

The hand came down and a glare was revealed. "I don't _know,_ Gus," he said. "I just told you that."

Okay yeah, but...

"Would you _like_ to spend more time with Juliet?" Gus asked. "Outside of work I mean?"

The hand came back down to recover the eyes and Shawn shrugged again.

"I don't know. I guess. I mean, we had fun." And wow there was more than a hint of wistfulness to _that_ tone.

Gus waited a beat. "But?"

"But..." Shawn sighed and shifted in his seat. "But it's a _second date_."

Gus nodded. "Uh huh. So?"

Shawn tilted his hand to show his eyes but didn't actually remove it.

"So it's a _second._ _Date_."

Gus frowned and thought about this for two seconds. "Oh."

"Yeah," Shawn said acerbically. "_Oh_."

"So then just say no."

Shawn snorted. "Just say no. She's not a drug, Gus."

Gus' eyebrows rose. "Are you so sure about that, Shawn? I mean, if I had to compare the way you act around her—and more importantly when you're _not_ around her—"

"Shut up, Gus," Shawn said, but it was said without real heat.

Gus smiled slightly, but it faded after a moment. "So are you leaving then?"

Shawn's hand did come away now and he lifted his head with a frown. "What?"

Gus shrugged. "I mean, if you're not going to say yes, you're going to... what? Just keep working with her like nothing ever happened?"

Shawn's mouth opened, then snapped shut a moment later.

"I..." he started. His eyes unfocused and his frown intensified. "I don't..." He cursed.

Gus felt sympathy for his friend, but to be honest he was kind of glad this had happened.

And morbidly curious as to how it would play out.

Shawn made a frustrated growling sound. "I don't want to leave," he said with just a hint of petulance.

"So don't," Gus said easily.

"But..."

Shawn stood and began pacing again. Gus leaned back to enjoy the show.

"I like it here. And Psych... It's fun. And it's challenging. And..." He half-laughed. "And I _don't want to leave_. Oh if my father heard me right now he'd have the world's biggest 'I told you so' ever." He chuckled again.

"So stay," Gus said.

The amusement faded, replaced by pain. "But Juliet... It's just... Three years, Gus. Three years of flirting and teasing and dancing around each other and... It would be awkward to just stop it. Plus she'd probably think it's her fault."

"Isn't it?"

"No!" Shawn said. "Well, I mean, no. Not really. It's mine. Kind of." Shawn sighed again, once more mussing his hair with his hands. "We were comfortable where we were. Flirting but nothing more. It was comfortable. Aggravating and comfortable. But I could live with it."

"So you wanted it to stay that way?"

"No," Shawn said, sounding more and more like a five-year-old who was discovering life wasn't fair. "At least, I don't... I don't know. Maybe."

"Well," Gus said gently, "the bad news is, Shawn, that it _didn't_ stay that way. So whether you wanted it to or not is kind of a moot point now. Now you have to figure out what to do about it."

Another sigh. "I know. But it's not that easy."

"Why?" Gus asked.

"Because it's not!"

"Explain it to me, Shawn. Walk me through the problem."

"Okay, fine," Shawn said and parked his butt back in the squishy chair, leaning forward, all intensity now.

"I don't want to leave Santa Barbara. I like it here. I like Psych and I like being around to hang out with you and... I... don't hate my dad." He faltered slightly on that last point, but it was quickly washed away.

"I don't think I can just keep on pretending things haven't changed. No, scratch that, I _know_ I can't. Because Juliet won't. And it's not fair to her anyway because she'd think it was all her fault and while it _kind of_ is because if she hadn't said yes we wouldn't _have_ to pretend it hadn't changed because it wouldn't have, it's not _really_ her fault because I'm the one that's been asking her out for three years hoping she'd say yes, and now that she has it's screwed everything up even though I'm glad she did, because we really had fun and I'd like to do it again, but—"

Gus held up a hand. "Whoa, Shawn. Stop right there and breathe. You're making _me_ dizzy from the lack of oxygen."

Shawn did as told and inhaled deeply.

"It seems to me that you have two choices. Well, three, but you already said you don't want to leave. So if you stay you have two choices. One: You can tell her no you don't want a second date, try and fail to pretend things never happened, make working together very awkward for all of us, and probably eventually spell the end of Psych."

"Okay, not liking _that_ doomsday scenario, Nostradamus."

Gus shrugged. "Do you really see it ending differently, oh Psychic Detective?"

"No," Shawn agreed morosely.

"Okay then. Two: You say yes to a second date and see what happens."

Shawn's skin took on a slightly pale—and possibly vaguely greenish—cast at that suggestion. He swallowed audibly.

"And here we see the real problem," Gus said. A light sweat broke out over Shawn's forehead and his breathing became quick, shallow inhalations. "Why are you afraid of a second date, Shawn?"

"I'm not—"

Gus silenced _that_ denial with a look.

Shawn's gaze dropped to the floor where he found a very interesting fuzz ball to stare down.

"I know you're not exactly a poster-boy for commitment, Shawn, but it's the second date. That's all."

Shawn was silent for a long time and Gus settled in to wait.

Finally Shawn spoke. "It's not just a second date, Gus."

"Why not?"

Shawn looked up, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Because unless it goes horribly wrong, second dates lead to thoughts of third dates."

"Right."

"And third dates lead to thoughts of fourth dates and fifth dates and soon there's a one month anniversary and _that_ leads to thoughts of a six-month anniversary and _that_ leads to thoughts of _other_ anniversaries and rings and questions and— and—"

"Whoa, Shawn," Gus said, leaning forward when it looked like Shawn might be in the beginning stages of an honest-to-goodness panic attack. "It's just a date, Shawn."

"No, Gus, it's not."

"Okay. But even if it's not... is that such a bad thing?"

Shawn's expression turned pained. "Not... for some people."

And suddenly the switch was flicked. Gus almost looked up to see if there was a light bulb floating over his head. "Ah."

"I just..."

"Don't want to ever have a family?"

Shawn's face paled further and he looked somewhat like he'd been kicked. A little south of the gut maybe.

"I— Yes! I mean... I _want_ one, yeah..."

"But you think you'll suck at it."

Shawn looked away. "I just... I don't want to put another kid through what I went through."

Gus snorted. "Well if that's your attitude maybe you _shouldn't_ ever go on a second date."

Shawn looked up in genuine surprise, mixed with confusion and maybe a smidgen of hurt. "What?"

"'If you think you're going to fail before you even begin, you're right'," Gus quoted.

Blowing out a breath Shawn stood and moved to his desk, grabbing the squishy frog and proceeding to mangle it.

"I just... I don't know, Gus. I don't think I'm cut out for marriage. I mean, studies show that if your parents had a problem with something—"

Gus arched an eyebrow. "This isn't alcoholism or domestic abuse, Shawn."

"Isn't it?"

"No. Whatever went wrong between your parents was not linked to physical abuse or the excessive consumption of alcohol."

"Yeah, but I didn't exactly learn about healthy relationships from them," Shawn countered.

"Sure you did," Gus said with a shrug. "They didn't fight your whole life."

"Okay, yeah, but I wasn't really paying attention then."

Gus' eyebrow had started to fall but it rose again at that blatantly false assertion. "Shawn. Seriously. You did _not_ just say that."

"I wasn't!" Shawn protested.

"Uh huh," Gus said. "And that matters how?" He cocked his head and waited for a response.

Shawn sighed and rubbed at his temples. Not to indicate the arrival of a fake vision but to ward off a headache this time. "So not in the mood to relive my childhood," he muttered.

Gus shrugged and waved a hand. "Or you can pack up and leave town. Try something new somewhere else."

Shawn glared as he dropped into the chair behind his desk. "I should just to make you regret saying that."

Gus smiled. "Yeah, okay, Shawn."

Shawn continued to mutter and mumble under his breath as he closed his eyes and focused on the past.

Gus, meanwhile, got comfortable for a nice afternoon working on paperwork.

"You really think I can do this?" Shawn asked, suddenly.

Gus gave the question serious thought—though it didn't take long. "I think you can if you're willing to work for it. It won't be easy. But yeah, I think you can do this."

Shawn made a lopsided moue as he considered. "Yeah okay. Why not? I can always blame you and leave town if it goes wrong."

Gus just smiled.

* * *

Any final words of love or hate would be much appreciated, my dear readers! Thanks for reading/reviewing/alerting/favoriting!


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